victormakesart: (Default)
Home sweet place.

The thing about Victor and Cole's new place is that it is thoroughly babyproofed, neat, and mostly blue, though the 'neat' part might be in some slight question since you don't have two little ones in the house without toys getting strewn everywhere. There are toy baskets at the entrance of every room, but there are still little cloth books between couch cushions, a cyclopean teddy bear face down on the floor, and a blocky toy truck underfoot. Victor fixes that little tripping hazard with a swing of her cane, like she's playing croquet. It bumps into the couch. She bends, and picks it up.

At any rate, the place is mostly neat. "Think I can say that the baby ate my homework?" she asks Clark, as she makes her way to the nursery, napping, okay she'll be quiet, she tip-toes out, closes the door. "Can you believe the amount of work we get?"

"The password to the wifi is goodjobhacker, no spaces, no capital letters. I'll make us some coffee."
victormakesart: (oh!)
And the planet I'm living on now just had first contact.
victormakesart: (Default)
I totally got in trouble for spending three days in a room, working on programming.

SORRY GUYS I JUST GOT EXCITED!

[x] Body
[x] Personality
[o] Nanobot guts
[o] Functional AI
[_] Finishing touches

x = done
o = mostly done
_ = close to mostly done

We're looking at a projected 'birth day' in late July, which... considering that I've been working on this since October, is pretty rad.
victormakesart: (: ))
We've been helping this bird-like alien species called Tribadish. The eggs they lay are so thin-shelled that their numbers have been dwindling. Their bones break easily. We figured out that it might be that they don't have enough native plants that have calcium, and since they're not mammals they're not getting calcium from any other source.

I'm so excited! The first changes are starting in the population. They're stronger. We've introduced new plants, supplements. Their next clutch should have more viable babies than they've had in decades!

the wedding

May. 7th, 2011 02:03 pm
victormakesart: (Default)
The most remarkable thing about the wedding decorations: flowers peppered here and there, floating at shoulder height, big and lush like magnolias, with roots hanging down. The petals are glowing a soft ivory.

The least remarkable thing about the wedding decorations: the chairs, which are comfortable chairs and spaced evenly, rather a lot like chairs ought to be.

Things that are in between in their level of remarkableness: very many things. For instance....

Read more... )

For Clark!

Apr. 27th, 2011 11:34 am
victormakesart: (Default)
If you took a Bridezilla and put her in the opposite chamber and sucked out all of the Bride and all of the zilla, you would come up with Victor, who has no idea what she wants because all she wants is for her partners to be happy. Victor's practically a groom.

With the wedding speeding her way like a super awesome car chase, she's feeling itchy for exploration, and besides, she's far overdue for a Clarkish adventure.

With their Where To Go Next list in hand, she leads the way into:

Multi-Mart, which boasts NonEarth Objects, Cheaper Than Our Competitors.

open post!

Apr. 20th, 2011 09:49 pm
victormakesart: (Default)
Vic's bachelor party is broken into three parts, one for each bachelor, although Vic's third has Cole in it, too, and James' third is mostly... reverse-dressing entertainers. Who keep finding their way accidentally in Victor's section (perhaps because James sends them, perhaps because she gives each one a trenchcoat to borrow and a mug of cocoa).

There's a big television for video games, and a lot of appetizers. Manly appetizers. With a lot of meat and fire-taste and different sorts of breads.
victormakesart: (Default)
You are hereby invited to the wedding between:

Victor Allen
Cole Dover
and James Crane

May 7th, 2011 -- noon Central Nexus Time

[_] fish
[_] steak
[_] vegetarian
[_] fruitarian
[_] vegan
[_] kosher

Coordinates below.
victormakesart: (Default)
The single most important thing is the costume, she thinks, and she fretfully straightens her hems (disguised as a man, because being a girl where they're going to go is just too much work).

Her favorite part of the costume is the top hat, worn old just so, brown, with a wide band around it and a peacock feather, and she thinks she might start wearing it everywhere just to be obnoxious.

She makes the littlest fellow, and she has faith that Hannibal will be significantly more imposing in his costume, which would be a very good thing considering Victor would have difficulty intimidating a particularly shy beetle.
victormakesart: (Default)
The cliffs rise in front of them, straight up, white stone, with holes in it like lace, and it's hard to tell where the houses begin and the cliff face ends because it's all made of the same rock.

The air is warm and balmy, and it smells like salt and something coppery that needs getting used to in the nose, like water you step into that's too hot at first.

The grass is springy and blue under their feet, and they will find that they'll stick out the way particularly achy thumbs do, because they're the only mammalian humanoids on the entire planet.
victormakesart: (Default)
Today, I don't feel bad about the way I look.

I don't know if it's a fluke or a breakthrough, but there you have it.
victormakesart: (Default)
The lab is one of those ridiculously shiny places that must have cost about a bajillion dollars (not really a bajillion, but quite a lot). There's the light whir of machinery already in progress, lengths of gurneys that probably shouldn't be asked about. This lab is the great bit about being friends and also friends with people who own their world, and that probably shouldn't be asked about either. This is one of many labs, in a mansion.

It's a private lab, and she has access, which is precisely why she's using it. It's not nearly as shady as the narration makes it out to be, it's really shining and state of the art, and pretty much enough to make a scientist melt into a puddle of knowledge and lab protocol and a crumpled version of the periodic table.

"Welcome to the lab," she says, attempting an ominous voice that comes out less than ominous.
victormakesart: (Default)
Sometimes when disasters happen, you just have to curl in and hunker down, and that's what's happening at the Allen/Dover residence. There are six television screens (one of them is gigantic) and two computer monitors, all streaming different news channels, all subtitled and some of them foreign. Through the midvolume din, a few key phrases keep popping up: it's a tragedy, biggest cover-up since, officials are denying, video from one of the camps, reeling in horror.

Cole is on the very nice couch in the very nice apartment that is really ostentatiously big. Victor is fawning over him. They both look too pale, too tired, and shaky, though Cole looks worse and Victor mostly looks worried about him, and neither of them appear to be physically hurt.

There are stacks of newspapers as big as half of an encyclopedia set on the very nice coffee table.
victormakesart: (8))
Victor is in a pair of knee-long rainbow unicorn swim trunks. Victor is so subtle it hurts a little sometimes, with the gigantic aviators that cover up most of the face, the loose black t-shirt, and the big burgundy robe.

Vic's about to go jacuzzing with Malcolm, a new friend from far away. Vic is barefoot, legs also bare, appropriately SPFed, feeling really rather naked, which will soon prove to be an ironic feeling indeed.

((Drag-'verse!))
victormakesart: (Default)
If you're here, you might have had an invitation from Victor's journal to your journal or a text on your phone or a note on your door; however, since the prospect of going through all of her friends and sending a message to the ones that she has presents for sounds daunting at best and frightening at worst, here Victor is.

In a tweed jacket with elbow-patches.

In a leather wingback chair.

With PRESENTS!

Stop by! She just might have a gift for you (she probably does).
victormakesart: (Default)
This year will be the year I get a tattoo.

I need to start on my Valentine's day cards.

Plans: I'm building the girls a dollhouse eventually, except that it'll be the coolest dollhouse of all time.
victormakesart: (grar!)
This message is to inform you that, I, one Victor Barnabas Allen, am a vampire.

This explains:
1) my pale skin
2) my astoundingly active nightlife
3) that a stake through my heart or decapitation will surely kill me
4) my involvement in sanguineous situations
5) my propensity to cover up
6) my compulsive avoidance of mirrors
7) my obsessive nature
8) my multiple daily showers (to cover the scent of decay)
9) the weird way that I move can be attributed to rigor mortis


EDITED: Sorry, my journal was hacked. Also: this theory is untrue. Also: my middle name isn't Barnabas.

Open post!

Nov. 17th, 2010 08:37 pm
victormakesart: (hope dangles on a string)
Victor's sent her boyfriend off to a spa planet, which means that today is a working day, just like the day before was, and the day before that. She's sectioned off a small corner of the Nexus as her workspace, and while she's not using a blowtorch anymore, she was a moment or so ago, if you judge by the blowtorch set off to the side and the protective gear that's piled right next to it. She's wearing a shirt that says 'I'm good, is that bad' on the front and 'I'm bad, is that good' on the back.

She's been working, when she hasn't been sleeping, eating, showering, or patrolling, and she has a lot to show for it. On the table she's been working on (really two tables pressed together), there are upwards of a couple hundred pieces of cut metal, and a whole metal arm, from shoulder joint to wrist, and half of a hand. The hand is what's taking up much of the time. There's also nuts, bolts, screws, hinges, and various thingamabobs in glass jars.

Now she's draped over a Nexus couch like she's been built into it, rocking out to Radiohead (she thought it was appropriate, considering what she's building).
victormakesart: (Default)
This isn't the first time that Victor's woken up in a small room with a headache and no knowledge of how she got there. This is impressive, because Victor doesn't drink.

This is the first time she's woken up in a small room with a headache and no knowledge of how she got there in close proximity to someone else. She can hear breathing.

She takes stock. Too dark to see anything, the sort of dark that's deliberate and there's no adjusting to it. She's wearing different clothes than when she arrived on this planet, because she can feel air on her arms. She touches her stomach. The PINpoint she usually has strapped there is gone. The only thing that hurts is her head, so that's something. "So," she says, a low murmur. "Tell me you're the Master and not some sort of slobbering monster. Because otherwise, I'll have to request a room transfer, and that's a lot of paperwork."
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